


Carpe Diem

by kiath



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-02
Updated: 2007-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-29 17:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiath/pseuds/kiath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt by Strongplacebo for the 'Name three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write' meme: "Dom meets Orlando. Then they have sex. Who is this Elijah bloke?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carpe Diem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strongplacebo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strongplacebo/gifts).



It's not like it was a date or anything, not really. Well, it kinda was, and it kinda wasn't. A half-date. A secret date. A secret date in the sense that he didn't know it was a date. I kinda forgot to tell him that part.

I was _going_ to. I totally meant to spill everything and see what happened. Hold my hands up, say, “Fuck it, I can't keep quiet about this anymore. I fucking love you, man.” Which is why I took him out on a date. Y'know, a preamble to the big confession. Only... yeah. I didn't tell him it was a date. I told him to dress nice, that we'd have a couple of drinks and go on somewhere else after, that I had plans for the night. But that was it.

And so I showed up at the bar, suited, booted, a little drunk and so fucking nervous I wanted to puke, and there he was. He looked amazing, seriously. Just like he did the night we met. Well, not exactly the same. He was wearing jeans that night, and nothing up top aside from a shitload of sweat. Tonight he went for those pants that always make me feel a little horny, the exact ones I hoped he'd wear. If we were together, and he put those on in front of me, I'd, like, just want to fuck him on the spot. They cling to him so perfectly. And he was wearing that shirt I bought him last Christmas, the one that’s just a touch too big. It's a little 90s, but for some reason he makes it look so cool. I don't know anyone who can wear clothes like him. All I want to do is watch him dress so I can strip him naked again.

He's stood there looking fucking amazing, and I'm thinking _carpe diem_ , you know? Like, why wait? I wanted to tell him over dinner, get a little drunker and feed him oysters or some shit, but when I saw him all I wanted to do was to get it over with and take him straight home. Show him how nuts I am about him. And I was gonna do it, totally. When I walked up to him, he smiled at me just like he did the first time we met, all teeth and up-and-down eyes that made me think he was into what I was wearing, too.

Right at that moment, I think I loved Dom more than anything else in the world.

He would have said it. He would have told me he thought I looked hot, if only that fucking idiot hadn't shown up first. It's my night, our big fucking date, and there he is: the spawn of Satan, otherwise known as Orlando, apparently.

And Orlando's got a drink. A drink for Dom. I should have been buying the drinks, but oh no, _Orlando_ offered and it seemed rude not to, that's what Dom says. He grins up at Orlando and raises his glass to make a toast. A toast to what? To ruining my big chance? Because when I come back from the bathroom, back from crying like a moron in the fucking stall, back from convincing myself I can still tell him if we leave right now, there they are, making out right in front of me.

It was my fucking turn, and he took it.

It doesn't matter to Dom, obviously. He doesn't give a shit what I had planned for us. He wants to leave with Orlando. He wants to fuck Orlando. Orlando's only in town for one more night, and Dom has to have him, absolutely _has_ to fucking have him. Dom smells so good when he leans in to hug me, and I want to cling to him all night and tell him just how much I fucking love him.

But I don't.

I didn't tell him no. I didn't make him stay with me. I mean, it wasn't like it we were on a date or anything; and anyway, birthdays come around every year. It's cool, I'll have plenty more. And Dom'll call tomorrow, even if it's just to tell me what a hot lay that dick was. It's fine. I'm okay with that.

It's not like it was a date.


End file.
